Eyes of War
by Dreaming in Azure
Summary: Her village runs with rivers of blood, and hatred bars her war home. Uzumaki Mito is trapped in the heart of her enemy's lair, and not everyone wants her alive.


**A/N:** Decided to try my hand at a pre-Konoha fanfic. The pairings in this will be IzunaOC and as for Mito - I'll see. I'm thinking about MitoTobirama at the moment. Updates may not be that regular.

Also, would like to thank the lovely **neverlands-star **for beta'ing this work for me, and working out any problems. c:

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Naruto. Humph. :l

* * *

_When your dreams all fail_

_And the ones we hail_

_Are the worst of all_

_And the blood's run stale_

_~Demons, Imagine Dragons_

* * *

From experience, Uzumaki Mito knew that the Uchiha had a nasty habit of appearing when they were least needed and wanted.

The rule applied on several levels – whether it be during a sneak attack in a battle, or during an innocent trek back to her homeland – Uzushiogakure.

Sadly, their appearance often equaled bloodshed, murder, and ashes. The others in her entourage were dead, and the majority of her belongings – food, clothes, and the like – were ruined beyond recognition; charred black scraps that even beggars wouldn't want to salvage.

Incinerated or maimed – same thing really. Didn't both mean that you wouldn't live to see another day? What did matter was that they wanted to make sure she didn't make it out to tattle.

She glanced back, panting harshly as she made a dash back in the way she was sure she'd come from – her pursuers didn't seem to be close to giving up, and in fact, were gaining on her. The group of four behind her were traveling via tree hopping. While the option was there, giving her identity away as a kunoichi would only make them more suspicious.

A kunai to roughly an inch right of her head, and she stopped short. As much as her instincts were screaming out against giving up, against admitting defeat and urging her to continue her flight, logic was the weights entangling her legs and keeping her rooted to her spot.

Getting a kunai through her head would hurt a lot more thanbeing captured without a fight. Andto her eternal chagrin, she hadn't thought to bring along a set of her own weapons. No scrolls, nothing.

_Fantastic._

Slowly, so as not to alarm the group of Uchiha who had come to a halt above her, she turned around with her hands out, showing that she wasn't armed and had no intention to attack.

She winced as the first voice, after a calculating glance flitted over her for several seconds, called none too gently, "You there! What are you doing here? This land belongs to the Uchiha!"

Mito frowned. Uchiha territory? Uzushiogakure was in the opposite direction – how had she managed to enter the war torn area instead? To be able to enter the area without her knowledge – that was odd indeed. She bowed her head slightly. "My apology, sirs. I mean you no harm. I merely got lost." She fought back a cringe at the poor excuse – as true as it might have been, there was certainly a fat chance that the Uchiha would buy the story.

And they didn't.

Another voiced called out, "Yeah, right. Got lost after wandering around deep inside a battlefield, and what now?" A bitter snort. "Wait, don't tell me. You gonna run back to your precious Senjus with your tail between your legs?"

She gritted her teeth – the nerve of the man. (Although she had to admit**,** maybe running back towards her home wasn't the best idea. The Uchiha didn't take very kindly to spies and especially not Senju spies. Not saying that she was one.)

By sending out a faint wave of chakra, she determined the number within the clearing to be five, excluding herself. The chakra signatures were all tightly compacted. No doubt experienced war veterans from the way they handled themselves. Things would turn ugly if a fight ensued, and Hashirama would never forgive her, she thought wryly.

He was too fond of peace and the Uchiha as a whole. Powerful and wise, but so childish sometimes. (Too idealistic, the type of person who wouldshouldcould get stabbed in the back so easily.)

By that logic, there would be no wars. And sadly for her husband, the continued existence of the Warring States only confirmed the malevolent and greedy nature of humans and shinobi.

"Again, I have stated that I mean no harm. How long have you been tailing me? Surely**,** you have seen that I have merely been on the outskirts of your so proclaimed Uchiha territory even if I am intruding. It was not my intention to come here," Mito replied, spreading her hands in a complacent gesture. _That__'__s right, play it dumb. Play it dumb._

A short bout of whispering, although nothing that she couldn't pick up. Four within the group chattered noisily back and forth; the other was eerily silent. Had they dropped their defenses at the thought of a lost civilian?

"But you know, she is right about one thing. She was wandering around rather aimlessly. If she was a spy, how much info could she possibly get by staring at and cataloging trees?"

"What if that was just the decoy to throw us off? She might have some kekkei genkai that can be used for spying."

"I think she's a civilian. If she's a spy, why would she surrender at the first sight of a kunai?"

"What's a civilian doing here anyway? Why the heck would she travel with a bunch of shinobi?"

"Bah, who do you think I am? The creator? If I could answer your question I would, you idiot."

Mito bit back a sigh. _Uchiha or not __–__ some are just as dull as _certain_ Senju. _

She didn't have time for this foolishness. There were more pressing matters at hand, which included the matter regarding her survival and how on Earth she would manage to get to Whirlpool, or go back to the Senju all by herself. (Which really wouldn't be a problem if she had more on her than just the clothes she was wearing. Heck, she didn't even have _food_.)

She really wanted to murder herself for leaving behind her belongings now – she was a competent kunoichi after all. A seal later and she'd most likely be out of the mess.

The Uchiha with the ink black hair, the silent one, turned dull black eyes to her again. The air of authority surrounding him stood at odds with the lifelessness in his gaze.

_These are the eyes of war_, she thought somewhat belatedly._ It spares no one. I__'__m fortunate to have been untouched. So far._

There were three types of men_. Of men who could succeed_, thought Mito. _Great men, not as in kind, but as in the ones who could get things done._

There were the great men who held the warmth of a spring day in their gaze, drawing others with charisma. Other great men with glaciers for eyes enticed with power and promises (never kept, never kept… until she met him and he was the exception). But the third kind – there were those, great and terrible, who wouldn't think twice about killing, who had lost their value of human life.

Most great Uchiha, from her experience with them, tended to fall under the second. But this man – this man was slowly dwindling into the third.

Into the world of greed and betrayal, where the word "dream" was absent. Only ambition, only goals.

"You, come with us," he rumbled, the uncharacteristically soft voice cutting through the air. "If we deem you innocent, you may leave."

Astonished sharingan eyes turned to him, as if shocked that he would lower himself to speak to the mundane.

"But sir – " the first Uchiha to speak hesitantly piped up, and had she not been unnerved, she would have been amused to find that he couldn't muster the courage to look the other man in the eye.

"Silence." If his voice could cut steel, then his gaze shattered diamonds with its intensity and frigidity. "I will have none of it." Easily cowed, the other four Uchiha stepped back, directing uncertain glances between their leader and Mito. "The woman comes with us. The leader decides, not us. Agreed?"

His entourage nodded slowly, movements hesitant as though fearing that he would bite their heads off. Truth be told, Mito would have been less shocked if they had fallen to the ground, crying, "We are not worthy!" (Sadly, they didn't. It would have made her day.)

The Uchiha beckoned, and (arguably) against her better judgement, she followed without a struggle.

* * *

The moment she set foot in the camp – probably even before she set foot in camp, she'd caused quite the stir already.

She didn't doubt that quite a few of the men could sense the rapidly approaching chakra even before they'd set foot in camp. The story after she'd arrived was vastly different. Heads turned as they followed the red hair; she'd managed to garner nearly a sixth of the division's attention.

_The founder effect,_ she thought snidely. _The genetic variation must be abysmal if they__'__ve never seen red hair before._

She was marched to the grand tent situated within the heart of the area. The four shinobi waited outside while the other went in – to report, presumably.

She tried making conversation.

"So, who was that just now?" she asked, referring to the inky haired Uchiha. Exasperated glances were directed her way.

Eventually, one took pity on her. "That's Uchiha Shigeyasu. Our division leader, and in terms of power, just below our leader."

Mito gave a short nod. So he was the next leader then, most likely. She didn't like it at all – if he was the type of person who would be competing against her husband in the future, the tolls would be endless. The pool of blood would only spread and spread.

"You didn't answer us though, lady," another threw in, crossing his arms. "What were you doing around here?"

She bit her lip. Explaining the real thing would only get them even more suspicious – at the moment, she needed to deny all ties to the Senju if she wanted to get out of the hellhole alive. "I told you, I was trying to get to my hometown. I do not know what happened – I was sure we skirted around the war zone, since as I'm sure you're aware, people don't walk into battlefields as a hobby. However, as it appears, we walked straight into it. I have no idea. Truly. "

A lengthened version of her last explanation, yet somehow they found it easier to believe.

"Genjutsu?" the one who took pity of her supplied, tilting his head. "Possible, but who'd go to that length to use it on the likes of you?"

_And_ all her respect for him disappeared. They were all the same in the end, weren't they? Arrogant. Selfish. Those two words and Uchiha went hand in hand, didn't they? Said – lied with a straight face, "My father has acquired… some wealth lately. Perhaps…?" Thought, _more than you would think._

He nodded, eyebrows creasing together into a frown. _A picture of innocence, if you didn__'__t know better._

The awkward silence returned, perhaps even by tenfold – smothering her and the four others flanking her, guarding her from curious and shrewd glances from the other men.

Eventually, Shigeyasu pushed aside the flap of the tent, and made a small and impatient shooing gesture for her to go inside. Heaving a soft sigh, which attracted the unsatisfied gaze of said Uchiha, she brushed past the men, fighting back a shiver as she felt the disapproving gazes from behind and in front.

If anyone could be more intimidating than Shigeyasu, it would be the leader. Or rather, could have been more intimidating. Sharp, narrowed eyes glared out at her from a gaunt face, yet the age was catching up to him. In an all-out, no holds barred showdown, Shigeyasu would hold an advantage in everything except for experience, Mito mused. Perhaps that was why he hadn't made a move for the position yet.

Assuming she could get back to Hashirama, Tobirama, and the Senju in general, the power struggle would be something she would definitely bring up.

The leader glanced at her loftily, albeit a bit disinterested. "I am Uchiha Tajima. You are?"

Mito bowed, countless hours of etiquette lessons still at play. She caught herself in the middle – surely a civilian wouldn't be able to effortlessly bow to a warlord. She purposely fumbled. "I am Mito, kind sir."

An eyebrow was raised; the expression almost comical on the man's hardened face. "And you have no clan?"

"No, sir."

He paused, eyes running down her form – actually taking her in for the first time. In her tattered light blue kimono, and with the Uzumaki symbols on her obi ruined beyond recognition, it was nigh impossible to tell her apart from a normal civilian, she realized.

"Why do you trespass on our land then, woman?" he questioned, glancing down his nose at her. "Why do you bring guards with you?"

So Shigeyasu had already reported the decimation of her entourage. Lying would serve no good at all.

"I was not aware of my entering the boundaries of a war zone. We had estimated the distance – we had taken care to make a detour around this area, having heard of the Uchiha – " She paused, about to say Senju, but cut herself off, not knowing how this man would respond to his enemy's name. She amended quickly: " – and their enemy. Somehow, it only caused us to walk straight into this area."

Tajima snorted, a sharp derisive sound. "You sound so certain, woman."

Her heart sank. So he didn't believe her…? (Then again, that was asking for a lot of trust. And Uchiha didn't really _do_ trust.)

He must have seen the despair written on her face – he laughed this time, a throaty chuckle. "Oh, don't worry. You're not going to die. We just need some information from you, especially if you're collaborating with the Senju."

Her blood turned to ice. Surely, he didn't suspect that her ties with them ran that deep? After all, she wouldn't put it past the Uchiha to learn of Hashirama's marriage. However, the name of the bride – they didn't exactly need to know that.

"Shigeyasu."

Like the devil himself, the said man appeared as soon as his name was called.

"My lord?"

Tajima seemed to be mulling things over. "Tell my sons that they will be in charge of the interrogation."

Even with the sense of impending doom weighing her down, she had to hide the small smirk at the subtle downturn of the division leader's mouth. _Some wasn't happy._

* * *

Mito was musing about men and their warped perception of pride when Shigeyasu stalked in, who was practically biting back a growl.

"My lord, Madara is not being agreeable."

She turned her head to the side so as not to show the smirk fighting its way onto her lips. Oh dear – someone's ego was being shattered blow by blow. The movement wasn't discreet enough, and the fuming Uchiha now rounded on her, cold fury pressing down.

"You find it funny, woman?" he snarled.

She put iron in her neck, her gaze. Cocking her head slightly, she murmured, "No. Of course not."

With a last backwards leer, he excused himself, and stalked out of the tent. Mito frowned – she could sense another presence outside, yet he made no move to enter. The presence merely shifted to let the division leader out, and stayed camped in front of the entrance.

The leader sighed, shoulders setting almost dejectedly.

He was tired, she realized belatedly. Tired – of the politics and power play and young ambition getting in the way? This was a game, wasn't it? A deadly game where the first person to show weakness lost. His previous bravado had deserted him, air before a harsh gust of wind.

And Mito suddenly found that she didn't hate him as much – not anymore.

"Come in," he said, propping an elbow on the table before him languidly.

Only then did the presence make itself known. (Well, she wouldn't have been able to tell if she hadn't been a sensor type.)

"Father," he acknowledged, dropping down onto one knee, head bent. The seated Uchiha waved the formality off.

With a start, she realized that she had been slacking off. How had she not seen it earlier? The similarity between the chakra of the two was unmistakable – an odd combination of ice and fire. (But then, that was what the Uchiha were. The epitome of contradictions.)

It didn't end there. The physical likeness was there alright, and the eyes were the most startling. Add a bit of fire and take out the jade, and their eyes would be nearly identical. The shade was slightly off, not that it mattered much. And the hair – well, nearly all the Uchiha's hair were the same in Mito's opinion. Just varying levels of spikiness and length.

"I told you that you do not need to do so unless it's absolutely necessary."

The younger of the two stood, and shrugged a shoulder daintily. "We do have a guest." Eyes raked over her once again – what, the third or fourth time that day? – assessing and taking her in. To her shock, the ghost of a smile was apparent on his countenance, and not the leery "I will hurt you later" kind of smile that she'd been subjected to for the majority of the day.

Which brought her to her second problem: Guest. _That was the nice way to put it_, Mito thought, staring down at the ground in front of her glumly.

He didn't even know the full extent of the situation.

"Izuna, you and Madara will be in charge of extracting information from her. We have suspicions that she may be a spy, although it has not been confirmed. You are in charge of her. Do not disappoint me," Tajima said, dismissing them.

A deft nod. "Understood."

* * *

Her stomach kept on turning the whole time the young Uchiha lead her back to wherever they were going.

_Please don__'__t torture me oh God I don__'__t want to die yet don__'__t let me die don__'__tletmediediedie._

The silence killed her. He didn't seem like such a bad person, from her earlier impression of him. Deciding to take a gamble, she opened her mouth.

"What now, sir?"

He snorted, and she was vaguely taken aback by the contrast of his actions from before.

"Don't go all formal on me please. Madara's bad enough. Just call me Izuna." He turned, leading her down a narrower aisle of tents.

"Well then, Izuna-san," she tried, the name foreign on her tongue. She tried to make her tone light – and failed miserably. It came out as a soft yet nervous, "Where are we headed?"

He tilted his head to look at her, as though picking up on the unease; tracking down the scent of fear. _Wolves_, she thought dazedly. _A bunch of wolves_. A pack that would treat her with respect until they decided that she would be prey. She couldn't afford to fear. Not if she valued her life.

"I'm looking for Madara. He's probably still at the training grounds," he answered dismissively, once she'd finished taking a deep breath.

Black eyes flitted around the camp, before fastening onto something; someone. Had he found him?

To her surprise, he cut across the area to come to a halt in front of a blue eyed girl with chin length midnight hair, who couldn't be much older than herself.

Bangs fell into the girl's face as she tilted her head in response to a question, the habit surprisingly bird-like. Even from across the distance, the "Are you serious?" look was unmistakable.

She said something that sounded like, "Of course he's not back yet. Does the sun look anywhere _near _setting to you?"

Izuna tossed a quick response back, to which she shrugged at. She also smiled, although the gesture didn't reach her eyes. The scene was odd – yet no one else in the clearing found it to be so.

She held herself with a confidence absent in most other servants within the area. (At least Mito was pretty sure she was a servant. Maybe yes? Maybe not? The Uchiha were as confusing as hell.)

Soon enough, Izuna returned, apparently having acquired the information needed.

They took a shortcut through the forest, the trees dark and foreboding. (_Turn back! Turn back! You foolish girl, do you not value your life?) _Izuna paused at the edge of a clearing, and Mito had to reign in her features to hide her shock.

The training ground was simply put, enormous, compared to the Senju's. Double the size of their largest one – although, she had to admit as she watched a squad of soldiers fire off katons, it probably had to be large enough to avoid causing a forest fire or torching your fellow squad members.

She came out of her stupor after a few seconds – long enough to be abandoned by her guide, apparently. Izuna had turned left, making his way to the man training against a set of dummies solitarily.

"Madara."

The man turned, cutting an imposing figure; red and black, blood and fire and death against the dull brown of the earth.

He reminded her of Shigeyasu, but perhaps a little less cold; a bit more sentient? (She hoped. She could only hope.)

"What is this?" he asked, voice startlingly similar to Izuna's. The subtle differences were there, however. His tone was harder. Sharper.

His brother stepped in and whispered into his ear; nothing that she could make out.

At long last, Izuna stepped back and nodded at her. "This is," he began, and looked at her questioningly, as though just realizing that he didn't have her name.

She quickly cut in. "Mito, sir." And after a moment's hesitation, "It's a pleasure to meet you."

The elder brother stared, and then broke out into harsh laughter.

* * *

**A/N:** Uh, I really don't know what else to say other than reviews are loved? Sure, hitting the favourite button is easy, but reviews motivate us writers. ;)

Much love for reading,

-Azure


End file.
